


Finding a Broken Robin

by Spnfandom8



Category: Batman - Fandom, Criminal Minds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26916190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spnfandom8/pseuds/Spnfandom8
Summary: When Robin is kidnapped by a sadistic serial killer, what will happen to him? how long will he be held captive? who will find him?
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Finding a Broken Robin

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy. :)

I open my mouth to call out to Batman, but realising that distracting him now would only cause him to lose focus and probably get injured, I simply turn around and chase after the man, throwing my smashed Comm unit to the ground as I run, knowing that it’s not going to be able to be revived after this fight, and that i’ll just have to get a new one.   
I see a flash of clothing at the exit to the alleyway i’m in, only realising that it’s not the man i’ve been chasing, but a civilian, when I feel the air shift around me, a blinding pain flashing through my head a moments later, I look up through blurry vision seconds later to see the man I was looking for standing over me with a tire iron in his hand, I brace for the blow I know my body won’t react to in time, and i’m surprised when the man’s hand stays poised above his head, a look of shock and pain crossing his face, I hold onto consciousness long enough to see a slight man appear from behind the criminal with a bloody knife clutched in his hand, and with a disgusted look the man pushes my attacker to the side, causing him to fall just beside me with a sickening thump.   
The last thing I see before I fall into the darkness is the slight man standing over me with a sick grin on his face, and a pale hand reaching down to caress my face. 

Time Skip 4 hours 

I awaken to the sound of a rumbling engine, and opening my eyes proves to be fruitless as I realise that i’m most likely in someone’s trunk. I quickly shift to my side to relieve my aching back, but I realise that I should have logged my injuries a little before I decided to move, I feel sharp pain shoot through my head, spreading down throughout my body and thumping to the beat of a heavy metal song inside my head.   
Probable concussion it is then, I decide as I rest my cheek on the scratchy carpeting of the trunk, waiting until the pounding in my head lulls to a dull roar.   
When I feel that I can move around without causing my head any more trauma than it already has, I start feeling around to see if my utility belt is somewhere around me, i’m disappointed a moment later when I realise that the only things residing in the trunk are me and a greasy burger wrapper.   
I remember my mask suddenly and my hand shoots up to my face, heaving a sigh of relief as I feel the smooth material of my domino mask against my fingers, happy that the trick release on my mask prevented my kidnapper from revealing my identity.   
My sore muscles tense as I hear the brakes squeak and the car rolls to a stop, I roll to a defensive position in the cramped confines of the trunk, preparing for it to open so I can escape from whoever took me.   
I’m caught off guard when the trunk only opens enough for a hand to snake in holding a vial of something, I try to wedge open the trunk but the hand quickly retracts and the trunk slams closed again, I hear a slight hiss and I realise that the vial must contain something to knock me out, I stop my breathing, trying not to inhale the gas that is disturbing the air around me, 4 minutes later I realise that I can’t hold my breath any longer, I can’t wait for the trunk to open, with a resigned grimace, I open my mouth and breath in, tasting the gas as it goes into my lungs, but not staying awake long enough to taste it again. 

Time Skip 2 Hours 

I groan as I try and roll over from the uncomfortable position that i’m in, opening my eyes when i’m jolted onto my back, I look down at the leather straps restraining me at my wrists, ankles, and torso.   
I quickly catalogue my surroundings, no windows and the damp chilly air leads me to believe i’m in a basement, I gasp as I see the worktable against the wall, it seems to contain a collection of items most commonly used to torture people, it also doesn’t help that the table has a small collection of the instruments covered in blood. My eyes are drawn away from the torture instruments and to my utility belt laying on the end of the table, if I can get to it then I can activate the tracker that lets Bruce find me when i’m in trouble.   
There isn’t anything else in the room aside from a set of wooden stairs at the far end of the room and an unmarked door with a padlock on it.   
I look down to what i’m sitting/laying on, it looks like a gutted dentists chair, I let my head fall back onto the headrest, closing my eyes and sighing as I realise that there isn’t any way to get out of my binds without cutting a limb off, even dislocating my thumb won’t work for the straps he has around my wrists.   
“Hello young man” I hear a high voice say as the man who killed my attacker descends from the top of the stairs.   
“What do you want from me you sicko?” I ask, my voice thick with disgust.   
“I want respect!” the man yells as he nears me, his face going red in anger, his fists clenching, veins popping out on his forehead and neck.   
“Respect? Really? You want respect for kidnapping an unconscious child?” I ask tauntingly.   
My eyes widen as he detours from me over to the table of torture, as I dubbed it, and picks up a gleaming scalpel, I watch as he spins towards me, a feral grin on his pale face, his brown eyes boring into my blue ones.   
I’m man enough to recognise when i’ve made a mistake, and i’ve made a mistake, I know as soon as I feel the bite of the scalpel that I shouldn’t have pushed this man, I shouldn’t have teased him, and I shouldn’t have underestimated him.   
I may only be 10, but Bruce taught me to own up to my mistakes, and this was a major one. 

Time Skip 3 Weeks 

I feel a tear roll down my cheek as the man i’ve come to know as Liam finally leaves the room after hours of torment, I shiver as the blood running from various wounds all over my body chills in the damp basement air, the only things I have left to keep me warm are my domino mask and my boxers, which thankfully, Liam hasn’t removed at any point during my ‘stay’ here in his lovely basement.   
I figured out where the door led early on in my time here, it’s a cell with shackles bolted into a concrete pillar embedded in the dirt floor of the basement, there isn’t much else in that room except for the skeletal remains of multiple other children, Liam leaves me there at night and brings me into the main room during the day.   
We have a schedule, him and I, I get water when he knocks me out and puts me in the cell at night, and food when he takes me out and puts me in the gutted dentists chair in the morning, Liam comes down for my ‘lessons’ 6 times a day, each time more painful than the last until i’m a sobbing, bloody mess in the chair, and he asks me different questions, and every time he asks, I don’t answer. I learned very quickly that answering him just led to him getting angry because he thought I was lying, that I was always lying, so I learned to keep my mouth shut. I haven’t uttered a word since my second day here, and I don’t plan on changing that anytime soon.   
He gets the most angry when he tries to remove the domino mask covering my face, but that is one secret that I won’t be giving up, I just have to wait for Bruce to find me, then it will all be okay again.   
I feel myself drifting as the open wounds Liam left behind from our last lesson drip my cooling blood onto the floor.   
I’m startled into consciousness moments later when I hear a crash and yelling from the floor above the basement, I feel hope blossom in my chest when I hear Liam scream and then silence, I work to keep my eyes open long enough to see who is here, knowing that if it was Bruce he would have swept in here silent as the night and dispatched Liam quietly and brutally before rescuing me and taking me to the safety of the Manor.   
I lay limply in my chair, my eyes stubbornly staying open as I hear thundering footsteps nearing the stairs, it aggravates my headache when those voices suddenly get much closer to me, and I cringe away from the sound, waiting a few moments before I see a group of people descending the stairs, their guns held out in front of them, I watch them hesitate for a moment when they first get a look at me, before they all rush down the stairs, the one that gets to me first immediately presses his finger to my pulse point, and as he searches my face for any signs of life, I feel other hands loosening the straps around my body.   
I gather the remainder of my energy to sit up, surprising the people crowded around me.   
“Woah woah woah, lay back down kid, your injured, you need to stay still” the dark haired man in front of my says as he sets his hand on my shoulder and exerts a small amount of pressure, and it’s almost enough to bring me back to the table, but I know that I need to get to my belt, so I shake my head, ignoring the shocks of pain it sends through my body.   
I feel tears escape my eyes once more as I force my body to stand, stumbling over to the table of torture and fumbling my way to the end of it, I let out a small cry of relief as my hands make contact with my utility belt, it’s seconds later when I press the small button on the belt and activate the tracker, feeling my knees buckle as I fall backwards, not releasing the death grip I have on my belt, bracing for impact and whimpering when I feel hands catch my broken body instead of the compact dirt of the floor.   
I feel arms cradle my body and start to move, feeling the rumble of a deep voice against my cheek as my head rests against a hard chest, I realise with the rumble that the people around me have been speaking the whole time, and I was just tuning them out in my concentration.   
“Come on kid, stay with me” the man carrying me says, concern flooding his voice.   
I know that I have to, otherwise i’m going to be taken to a hospital, which I don’t want, so I do what Bruce taught me to do, I fight, I keep my heavy eyes open and I focus on my surroundings, and when the man carrying me tries to put me on the stretcher, I ball my hands into fists into his shirt and I hold on for dear life, knowing that if I can just hold on, if I hold on, then they can’t put me in that bed and ship me off to the hospital, where they will take my blood, and probably run my prints.   
“Come on kid, you have to go to the hospital” the man says, trying to gently remove my hands from his shirt, but I just hold on all that much tighter, shaking my head vehemently.   
“I’m not going anywhere, I promise kid, i’ll stay right here” he reassures, once again trying to deposit me on the bed.   
I open my mouth for the first time in weeks, and I croak out a painful “no” hoping he listens to me.   
I’m rewarded for my efforts a moment later when the man sighs and shifts me in his arms, climbing into the ambulance with me in his arms a moment later, the people crowded behind him following a moment later.  
I make sure to open my eyes and turn so that I can see everyone in the back of the ambulance with me, I watch as the EMT leans over towards me with an IV in his hands, gently taking my arm he attaches the IV under my careful supervision, giving me some much needed fluids.   
An hour later and i’ve perked up considerably, i’m relieved when I don’t have to fight for consciousness any more and I can listen and watch my surroundings without coming close to passing out.   
I watch the EMT scoot closer to me and Hotch, the man who has been holding me for the last hour and a half, and I turn towards him, my glare out in full force once again, this would be the sixth time that the people in the back of the ambulance with me have tried to convince me to detach my body from Hotch’s and let the EMT’s clean and stitch my wounds.   
I shake my head at the man once more, and let my eyes drift upwards to the black eye I gave him the last time he tried to stitch me up, and logically I know that I need to clean and bandage my wounds, but fuck logic, I can do it myself when we get to the hospital, I don’t want anyone else patching me up besides myself and Bruce.   
I look around once again at the people who finally rescued me from that monster, they introduced themselves to me earlier.   
The bald man next to me is Derek Morgan, next to him is a gangly looking kid named Spencer Reid, Elle Greenaway is on the other side of the ambulance and she has been looking at me with pity in her eyes since we first got in here, next to her is an older man with a rumbly voice, Jason Gideon, and I can’t seem to get a read on him other than the fact that he doesn’t like my refusal to get patched up, and the man who caught me when I was falling back in the basement is Aaron Hotchner, but he told me to call him Hotch.   
I know that the EMT’s want Hotch to forcibly put me on the stretcher so that they can treat me, but they can’t do that without further injury to me, because everytime they try, I fight back, causing any wounds that had started to close up to open again and start bleeding, the next thing they had tried was to give me a sedative in my IV, put I pointed out a bleeding head wound, making sure they understood that I might have a concussion, and patients with a concussion are supposed to stay awake, so it was with a triumphant look that I beat them at their own game.   
I’m brought out of my thoughts as we finally pull up to the hospital, turns out that Liam kept me in the middle of nowhere and it took forever to get somewhere to treat my wounds.   
The doctors that open the ambulance seem surprised that their patient is attached to a person instead of on the stretcher like I should have been, but Hotch is quick to explain, standing up with me still attached and walking me into one of the rooms where they sent a doctor to treat me.   
The entire team follows behind us, the doctor very confused and trying to get me to get onto the bed, but I don’t listen, staying put as Hotch sits on the bed instead, beckoning the doctor over with his tray of antiseptic and stitches, and that’s when I make my move.   
I quickly uncurl from my position and glide over to where the doctor is standing a few feet away, I grab the rolling tray with all of the tools i’ll be needing and move to the other unoccupied end of the room, watching as the doctor and the agents rush to come after me, I quickly grab the tray and scramble with some pain up on top of some cabinets near the ceiling of the room, high enough up that none of them can reach me without climbing, giving me ample time to move if any of them decide to do just that.   
With one eye on the occupants of the room, who are now trying to coax me down, I get to work cleaning all of my reachable wounds, then starting the slow process of stitching them all up, one by painful one.   
I watch as the team that escorted me here get these horrified looks on their faces, and then double their efforts to get me to stop, to come down and let the doctor do it, but I don’t listen, because I don’t trust the doctor, and Bruce will be here eventually, and he can make sure i’m completely fixed up then.   
About a half hour later i’m finished, my wounds are bandaged, stitched and cleaned, and the team is still gathered below me, waiting for me to finish and come down, which I do easily, making sure not to rip any stitches on the way down.   
When I reach my destination I beeline for Hotch again, reaching out to grab his hand, wanting something to hold onto in case the doctor tries to do something.   
“Why did you do that?” Hotch asks as he squats down in front of me, concern etched into the lines of his face.   
I pointed at the doctor and shook my head, hoping he would get what I was trying to say.   
“No doctors?” he asks, and I nod my head in confirmation.   
“Jesus christ kid” he mutters as I tug on his hand, pulling him over to the couch in the room, quickly situating myself on it, watching as the rest of the team does the same all throughout the room.   
And then I settle in for the wait, not knowing how long it will be until Bruce gets here, then I can break down, for now though, I have to stay strong, I have to wait for him to come and get me and then I can hide in his cape and he can take me back to the Manor and Alfred and I can cry, and I can tell him what happened, and I can heal, but right now, right now I need to sit here like I wasn’t just tortured for three weeks by a madman.   
I’m startled out of my semi meditation a few minutes later when a woman with blond hair, a bright blue skirt, and a colorful orange blouse walks into the room with a bright smile on her face, a smile that falls when she catches sight of my overly bandaged body.  
“Oh my god, what happened to him? Was he found at that sickos house?” she asks one after the other as she walks over to our group finding a seat next to Derek and sitting down, not once taking her eyes off of me.   
I nod at her, answering both of her questions.   
“Um, guys?” she says   
“Yeah” Derek says   
“Why is he wearing a mask?” she asks hesitantly   
“Yeah, I was wondering that too” Derek tells her   
“I don’t know, I also don’t know how it’s staying on, it’s very weird, there isn’t a strap or anything and I suppose there could be a glue holding it in place but I just don’t understand how it would have help up for this long” Spencer tells her   
“What about his name?” the woman asks   
“He hasn’t said anything other than ‘no’ since we found him” Hotch answers   
I realise that I can help them out, and with graceful movements I raise my hand and sign ‘Robin’ to the whole team, smiling when Spencer understands what I was telling them and translates for the rest of the team.   
“Like, Batman and Robin?” the new woman asks   
I nod my head, ignoring the small shoots of pain it sends through my head.   
Seemingly ignoring what I was telling them the team just continues with their conversation.   
“Have you guys gotten a blood sample, or fingerprints for me to run?” she asks   
“No” Gideon says   
“So do we actually know anything about this kid?” she asks   
“Not really, no” Spencer tells her   
“So, um, what are we doing? Are we going to try and find out who he is? Who he belongs to? Where he should be going after this?” she asks, seemingly concerned with my situation.   
I watch as Hotch opens his mouth to answer her, but he’s cut off when a big black shape suddenly sweeps out in front of me, stopping directly in front of me in a defensive position.   
“Dad” I croak out in the sudden silence, letting go of Hotch and gracefully gliding the few feet to Bruce’s back.   
I watch as one dark arm reaches around towards me and pulls me gently into his side, the long black cape flowing around to hide me in his shadow, I reach my arm out, clinging to the hard black body armour, letting the cracks in my mask break as I revel in the warm safety that I haven’t felt in weeks, and I shutter as my body finally feels the full weight of my injuries, not being held back by fear or determination.   
I feel my knees buckle as Bruce leans down and sweeps me into his arms, cradling my broken body gently, trying not to aggravate the many injuries littered all over my body.   
“Where was he?” I feel more than hear Bruce growl out to the occupants of the room.   
“He really is Robin” I hear the woman whisper in shock.   
“What happened to my son?” he asks, the anger in his voice spurring the agents into speaking.   
I tune out the explanation, already knowing what happened to me, and I let myself drift into a peaceful rest for the first time in way too long, my ear pressed against Bruce’s chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart, the growl of his voice deep in his chest, and his cape wrapped protectively around me, shielding me from the harsh world around me.  
I only stir when I feel Bruce’s grip on me loosening, setting me down into the passenger seat of the Batmobile and buckling me into the seat, and I keep my eyes open long enough to ensure that he makes it into the other side, watching as he reaches a hand out to card through my hair, with a soft command of ‘sleep’ which I obey without argument. 

Time Skip 2 Months 

I bounce around the cave happily as Bruce watches on with amusement, this is the first time that he has given me free reign to stretch and jump and flip wherever I wanted and however I wanted, today is the day that Alfred gave me the all clear that my wounds were finally finished healing.   
I do a couple flips and tricks over to where Bruce is standing before springing off my hands and landing on his shoulders, perching there for a moment before using him as a springboard and continuing my laughter filled jaunt through the cave, only stopping on hour later when Bruce makes me pause for water.   
After I drink the water I wait for it to settle before continuing my movement.   
“When can I go out on patrol again B?” I ask from my seat on his shoulders.   
“When I am certain that if anything like that ever happens again I have the means to locate you before any harm comes to you” he tells me, his voice going cold at the mention of my kidnapping.   
“I know you imbedded at least 6 trackers into my suit, mask, and boots, i’m not sure how much more tracked I can get” I tell him as I roll backwards off his shoulders, walking around to stand in front of him.   
“At least 6 more” he tells me as he sits down at the Batcomputer.   
I walk over in time to see him wiring his weekly anonymous donation to the BAU unit of the FBI.   
“It is funny watching them try to figure out where the money is coming from” I tell him with a grin.   
“Patrol?” I ask once more   
“We’ll discuss it later Dick” he tells me as he goes to get dressed for patrol, and I count that as a win, considering how much of a helicopter parent Bruce has been since I was taken, not that I mind all that much, but I would like to start going out on patrol again at some point.   
I watch as he walks over to the Batmobile a moment later in the Batsuit, and I just grin and tell him to be careful before plopping down at the Batcomputer a moment later, ready to help if Bruce needed any technical assistance while he was out.   
Until then, I log onto the chat server that I have been using to communicate with who I later learned was Penelope Garcia, and talking with her about our many shared fandoms and interests, and giggling when she tried to guess who me and Bruce were, landing so far off the mark every time it made me laugh.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? good? bad? meh? lemme know what you think. :)


End file.
